Subj: Collinsport -- 84
Date: 5/8/01 3:49:38 AM Central Daylight Time
From: DSRules
"Immortality?" Adam asked as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
"Yes." Sarah responded, looking over at Vicki.
Vicki took over from there. "This sounds very strange, I know, but I think I might be immortal."
This made Adam sit up straight in his chair. "Really? When did you first start thinking that?"
"About the time that I woke up from falling off Widows' Hill."
Adam stood and walked around to the other side of his desk, perching on the edge and looking Vicki squarely in the eyes. "Let's start at the beginning."
"All right. I moved to Collinsport in 1966 to find out who my biological family was."
"And did you?"
She shook her head. "No. But I sort of got adopted into the Collins family,
and they were everything I hoped for in a family." She smiled over at Sarah.
"Everything I feared, too, sometimes, but that's just how family is,
sometimes, isn't it?
"Well, later I fell in love . . ."
"Jeff Clark." Adam supplied.
"Sort of. Actually, I traveled back in time to the late 18th century, where I met a man named Peter Bradford."
Adam looked pointedly at Sarah. "Your adoptive family's ancestor?"
Sarah nodded. "Yep."
"And we fell in love. But we were separated, and he followed me to 1968, where you knew him as Jeff Clark."
Adam nodded. "Go on."
"Well, Jeff - Peter - got pulled back into the 18th century, and eventually I followed him."
"And you lived happily ever after." Adam interrupted.
"Not quite. You see, we had a baby. A son, Peter Bradford, Jr., and just after his first birthday, we took him home to see Peter's parents. While we were there, a man named Jeb Hawkes assaulted me."
"Jeb Hawkes again." Adam said in a surly tone.
"Not intentionally, you understand. He knew that I knew Carolyn, and he knew that he was going to marry Carolyn. Well, anyway, I ran, and slipped, and fell from the cliff."
"The next thing I knew, it was several weeks later, and I was in Rockport. I returned to Collinsport, but found that Peter had been executed for avenging what he thought was my murder at the hands of Jeb Hawkes.
"So, knowing that everyone thought I was dead, and that I couldn't support myself and a baby at that point in history, I left Peter Jr. with Peter's parents and set out on my own.
"I moved to Boston, and I returned to Collinsport to see Peter Jr. every few years.
"Eventually, though, Peter Jr. was grown, and I hadn't aged a single day since the day I fell from Widows' Hill."
~ ~ ~
After Vicki finished telling her story to Adam, including details on every husband, and all of her children, the youngest of whom was over 40, he stood and walked to the door at the back of his office.
"Sure sounds like you're immortal." He mused. "I have some books back here that just might give you some of the answers that you're looking for. About why this might have happened to you. If these books don't help," he added, "I'll look through my library at home and see what I can find."
"Well," Vicki responded. "There's really only one question I need answered right now. It's about the amnesia I suffered when I came here."
Adam paused for a moment, thinking. "And you said that it happened once before that, too?"
Vicki nodded. "Around the beginning of the 20th century."
"I think I might have a theory, but I need to check it out first." Adam returned to his desk and picked up the phone. He rapidly dialed and waited while it rang.
A minute later, he hung up. "There was no answer. I'll have to . . ."
"Grandpa!" Zoe interrupted their conversation as she threw the door open. "You've gotta see . . ."
She stopped short when she noticed that her grandfather wasn't alone. "Oh. Sorry Sarah. Sorry Miss Winters." She apologized.
"That's all right." Vicki responded. "It must have been very important for you to just come in here without knocking." She added pointedly.
The little girl blushed. "It is. We just got back from the jewelry store, and we've got a picture of what Momma's engagement ring's gonna look like."
"Zoe." Azura sighed as she caught up to her daughter. "What did we tell you about opening doors without knocking first?"
"Azura," Quentin chided her gently as he came up behind her. "It's been a big day for Zoe. It's not every day her parents get engaged."
Adam's eyes widened when he saw his future son-in-law. "Quentin! You were just the man I wanted to speak to. I just called over to the lighthouse, but you weren't there."
Quentin heard the gravity in Adam's voice. "What did you need to speak to me about?"
"You told me once that you had an experience with amnesia once."
Quentin nodded. "In the late 60s. Yes."
"And Julia jarred your memory somehow?"
"By showing me that portrait of myself. What are you getting at?"
"Have you had any other amnesia experiences?"
Quentin shook his head. "No. Why?"
Adam rubbed his jaw. "You were born in 1870?"
Quentin glanced quickly at Vicki before answering. "Yes."
Adam turned to Vicki. "And you were born in?"
"1946." She answered.
"Then, when you were 22, you went back to 1796. Right?"
"Right."
"So in 1900, you had lived for 126 years."
Adam didn't wait for Vicki to respond, turning instead to Quentin. "And you were almost 100 when your amnesia hit?"
Quentin nodded, but Adam didn't seem to notice.
"Yes," Adam mused to himself. "That just might make sense."
"What?" Vicki asked.
Adam shook his head, like he'd just realized that there were other people in the room. "A few years ago I read about some computer projections of human longevity and they came to the conclusion that there seems to be a sort of upper limit on the human lifespan. About 120 years or so."
"But we've both lived longer than that." Quentin argued.
"Yes, but what if that limit wasn't just a physical one, but was also a psychological one?"
Vicki's eyes widened. "So every 120 years or so our minds just . . . reset?"
"Yes. Very much like pushing a reset button on a computer." Adam responded, smiling at Vicki.
"Laura." Quentin said without preamble.
"Laura?" Sarah asked, looking over at her cousin.
Quentin blinked. {I forgot that Laura was passing herself off as David's sister.} "An old friend." He fibbed. "I never really thought about it, but I've known her for over a hundred years now, and I know for a fact that she goes through cycles very much like this. She had a nervous breakdown in 1960, in fact, but spontaneously recuperated several years later."
Vicki blinked and looked searchingly at Quentin, but didn't say a word.
"This will be very interesting to research." Adam said. "I can't wait to dig into some of my books at home and see if there's any record of anything like this happening in any other cases of immortality."
Subj: Collinsport -- 85
Date: 6/7/01 12:47:11 AM Central Daylight Time
From: DSRules
As before, Neil is played by Peter Barton. Nicholas Blair is played by Tom Cruise, and Tori Collins is played by Megan Follows.
=============
It was 4:00 and nearing dark by the time Neil's flight landed in Bangor. {I might just as well have waited for dusk as spent all of that time in the air.} He sighed as he made his way off the plane.
{On second thought, maybe not. If I'd gone in to work, or stayed home, Rosie would have driven me crazy nagging me about coming up here. Plus, it's not going to be dark for another few hours, and I'd better get moving if I'm going to catch Barnabas before he goes to see Nicholas.}*
Neil stepped out of the terminal and hailed a taxi. "Bangor University," He told the cab driver as he sat down. "And there'll be a fifty dollar tip in it for you if you get me there in the next fifteen minutes."
* * *
Barnabas had skipped out on his 3:00 to 4:00 office hours, and now he stood outside of Nicholas Blair's house, a sturdy-looking Victorian mansion in Rockport, some 56 miles to the south. Butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell.
At first, Barnabas thought that the door had opened by itself, but it was simply the growing darkness playing tricks on his eyes, for soon, a handsome man stepped into the doorway. "May I help you?"
"Yes." Barnabas was amazed that his voice didn't crack. "I'm here to see Nicholas Blair."
"And who may I say is calling?"
His throat was beginning to tighten up, so he cleared it noisily before he spoke. "Bar - Barnabas Collins."
The man, obviously a servant, smiled slightly. "Ah. Yes. I'll tell Mr. Blair you're here." He stepped back to allow Barnabas to step into the foyer.
Barnabas had expected the interior of the house to match the exterior, but he was mistaken. He had expected warm woods and faceted crystal. Instead, he found a brushed chrome entryway, with detailing reminiscent of the Art Deco style of the 20s.
And he found part of the reason for that interior design choice, when he noticed that strategic parts of the chrome had been polished to reflect as clearly as any silver-backed mirror. Barnabas could tell that Nicholas's new choice of home had been designed to identify vampires before they could do Nicholas any harm.
As he came to this realization, Barnabas's first thought was one of relief that, ever since Angelique had ended his curse when he was in 1840, he'd had a reflection, just as any normal man did. But then he wondered what had happened to make Nicholas so paranoid about vampires. And whether it was paranoia or a more realistic fear. {After all,} he reasoned, {it isn't paranoia if they really *are* out to get you.}
* * *
Fourteen minutes later, the cab driver stopped by the Student Union of Bangor University. "Sorry it took so long," the cab driver said, "But the snow . . ."
"No problem." Neil said tersely as he threw a $50 and a $10 to the driver and took off into the crowds of students lining the sidewalks of the college. "Excuse me." He stopped an attractive young woman. "Where are the history professors' offices?"
"Ziegfeld Hall." She responded with a smile.
"Is that over this way?" He pointed to his right.
"No. It's over there." She pointed behind her, to Neil's left.
"Thanks." He gave her his most charming smile as he hurried off in that direction.
{Ziegfeld Hall. Ziegfeld Hall.} Neil repeated to himself as he hustled across the campus. Finally, he saw the building in front of him.
{Collins. . . Collins . . .} He scanned the building directory, until he found Barnabas's office number. {241.} Not willing to wait for the elevator, he dashed up the stairs, taking two at a time in his haste to get to Barnabas' office.
At last, he arrived on the second floor, and sprinted down the hallway, arriving in front of 241, still as neat and unruffled-looking as he had been getting out of the cab. {One benefit of having no heartbeat or respiration,} he grinned as he walked to Barnabas' office door.
He scanned the flyers and notices on Barnabas' door, until he found Barnabas' schedule. {Office hours, 3:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.} He glanced at his watch. It was 4:20. {Missed him! Damn it!}
As he turned to leave, he heard a woman's voice from behind him. "He didn't show up for his office hours today."
Neil turned and found himself face-to-face with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. Deep auburn waves framed her face in a '20s style bob, and dark green eyes flashed at him from behind her stylish wire-frame glasses. She also looked somehow familiar, but Neil couldn't put his finger on where he'd seen her before.
"Hello." He smiled at her, hoping his fangs didn't show. "You wouldn't by any chance know where he went, do you?"
"No." She shook her head. "He told my mo - that is, he said something about having a meeting out of town."
"Your mother?" Neil asked, as he realized who she looked like. She had the look of both a very young Naomi Collins and of a very young Julia Hoffman. "You aren't Dr. Collins's daughter, Victoria, are you?"
Her eyes widened, as panic began to overtake her. "It's all right." Neil assured her. "Your father and I are old . . . acquaintances. I needed to see him about something important."
She calmed down almost as quickly as if he'd used some kind of mind control on her, which, of course, he hadn't. "Oh." She glanced over his shoulder so quickly someone with less-acute senses would have missed it completely. "A co-worker from back in the old days?" She asked with heavy insinuation.
"I guess you could say that." Now more than slightly ill at ease, he tried another charming smile. "Neil Morgan." He extended a hand for her to shake, and she took it with a private smile and another glance over his shoulder.
"Tori Collins." She took his hand in hers and shook it warmly.
"I've really got to find your father, and I think I know where he is, but I need transportation. Could I impose on you?" He gazed into her eyes intently, telegraphing his desperation.
"Sure. My car's this way." She cast one more glance over his shoulder, then headed for the door.
As he turned to follow her, his curiosity got the better of him, and he turned to see what she'd been looking at. It was a large picture window that opened onto a darkened room. And in the reflection in the window, he could see Tori perfectly, but, of course, he couldn't see his own reflection.
_________________
*Actually, if it's 4:00 EST on (just for the sake of argument) December 1
when Neil gets off the plane, he's got three hours until the end of civil twilight
in San Antonio, which is at 6:01 CST. http://aa.usno.navy.mil/